“Round midnight, I think. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. Don’t look so frightened. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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